Owner	Pose
T'Challa	The day at the market is a place of congregation for many Wakandans who live in and near Birnin Zana. Many wares can be had, along with different foods. These things are available for money, or bartering. Trade is still a thing. Stalls are lined up in rows, some featuring bowls, plates, drinking cups, and other kitchenware, many of them finely decorated with elaborate designs. Racks of clothing await interested parties seeking an addition to their closets, a new style, whatever catches their fancy. There is shiny jewelry as well. Breads, baked goods, dried meats, spices, fruits and vegetables, grains, drinks - all of this and more awaits anyone looking for something to have now or later. Toward one end is a low-raised stage, where musicians entertain those who are content to sit around and socialize.
Tara Tsabedze	A beautiful day in Wakanda could not be resisted. The New York winter had dragged on and on, and the battle with angels had been one she was forced to remain clear of. So whether it is Tara or Bast herself that stepped through the shadowy portal into the market place remained unclear. She wore a bright purple dashiki with a matching skirt, the pattern at the neck done in gold and silver threads. On her feet a pair of tan leather sandals, comfortable for the warmer weather. In the beginning of her walk through the stalls, she took little interest in the people around her, the wares for sale were far more entertaining. As the moments passed however, she became aware of people both staring at her, and making certain to get out of her way. They didn't know what to make of her, or really how to react to her. It was a reaction she had witnessed a million times, and not once did it occur to her that in Wakanda, that reaction might mean something more.
T'Challa	It might be said that nothing escapes the attention of the King. While this often feels so, it is not always the case. There are eyes and ears around Birnin Zana, not to mention many other parts of Wakanda and the big wide world beyond, and as soon as the figure of Tara is seen strolling the marketplace, when men, women, and children point and stare, some moving aside, others fighting the urge to come closer, word is sent back to T'Challa himself. He is not so far away, really. From large windows in the Palace of the King that overlook the amazing city the planet at large knows nothing of, the market itself is visible. Vehicles fly over the colorful canopies below, and an alert comes through his Kimoyo beads that a very strange sight has been seen in the market, a woman bearing similarities to the Goddess Bast herself, and what should be done about it? "Nothing," T'Challa answers, masking a faint sigh. "You will do nothing except observe. I will be there shortly." If he needed an excuse to set aside some paperwork, one just hopped right in his lap. He rises from the desk he sits behind, a pair of Dora Milaje shadowing him as he makes for the main doors that will take him outside.
Tara Tsabedze	The dried meats and baked goods seem to gain Tara's attention first, purchasing some of both to place in the bag strung over her shoulder. Having been in New York for too long, she was missing the taste of home and this market seemed to offer all of those tastes. Next she moved on to the fruits, still perfectly content to just be stared at, pointed at, and finally poked. Lifting her brow she looks to the young child that had been brave enough to poke her hip, she offers a toothy grin with a softly accented, "Hello." "She's real!" the child chirped before scampering back to his parents. Tara almost giggles, her right ear shifting as her tail flicks behind her, then she looks back to the fruit vendor as she says, "Very real, three pawpaws please."
T'Challa	It's the vendor she asks for the fruits from that does it first. He bows like he's going into a prayer, speaking, "Oh, dear Goddess Bast, you honor me. Please accept them as my offering to you." For the moment, nobody else follows suit. That is, until murmurs rise about King T'Challa. It is not the first time he has been seen at the market, for he himself has been there for a variety of things, and he has insisted on paying for them. At one time or another, every vendor has had him as a customer, whether he truly wanted or needed something of theirs or not. So a few others lift their voices toward him as the traditional Wakandan salutes are exchanged. His expression carries a kindly look to it, but his eyes are sharpened on the panthress. "I see you have found our fine market, Tara. Has it met with your approval?" A cordial enough question, though the lack of a more proper greeting could be a tell. He is dressed as he frequently is, in blacks, silvers, purples.
Tara Tsabedze	Both of Tara's brows raise as the vendor addresses her as the Goddess, and presents the fruit as an offering. This was actually a new experience for her and one she hadn't been prepared for. She cants her head slightly as she looks at the man, studying him with her golden eyes. The woman that is Tara would pay for the fruit, no matter the intention of the vendor, the Goddess with in her is thrilled by the offering of the pawpaws, creating a conflict inside her that she is puzzling out. "I believe that all who work hard deserve compensation for labors," she finally offers softly, followed by a smile. Without another word she lays a few bills on the counter top, more than the fruit is likely worth but she doesn't seem to mind. Thankfully it is also at that time that she hears T'Challa, so her attention turns toward him and the smile grows even brighter. "Majesty!" she calls cheerfully, though her tone is still soft. She can yell when she needs to, but there's no need. "Your markets are amazing! So many wonderful things that I have been missing in my life."
T'Challa	The vendor graciously accepts the payment, even as he assures her it is not necessary, that he is honored to consider the fruit as a small gift. There may be the feeling that it's more than just for show, that he is sincere about it. As much as Tara is focused on, they all recognize the King when they see him and he takes center stage for as long as it takes him to gesture for them to be about the things they were tending to previously. "Please, do not let me distract you from your business. It brings me joy to see you all looking well," he says to them. After this, the one with the complexion of the big cat that is the main deity of the Panther Tribe draws his own attention as the two Dora Milaje keep watch from the edges of the market. "It is a pleasure to see you again. You did not tell me you were visiting." He says this in such a way that he comes off as initiating conversation with a friend, yet the choice of words is clear to those who are paying attention: this is a surprise he was not expecting.
Tara Tsabedze	Adjusting the bag on her shoulders, after adding the fruit to it, Tara offers a slight bow to the vendor and a quiet, "Thank you." before her entire attention returns to T'Challa. Stepping away from the stall, her tail flicking a few times behind her, she moves a touch closer to the King. She wasn't oblivious to the careful way in which he was wording things, the many eyes and ears around him a constant reminder of his being the king and needing to present himself in a certain way. This does not change that his choice of words makes her giggle, and thus her golden eyes sparkle. "I had considered sending a text or attempting to contact you, but I did not think that you should be bothered by my desire to find a taste of home," she replies, her movements graceful and lithe like the feline she is, but she stops at what she believes if the 'safe' distance from a king. The last thing she wants is to cause him troubles or make his guards freak out... again. "I was also thinking of a fabric purchase, perhaps some jewelry," she then adds, as if her previous words were more than enough to explain why she didn't tell him, or anyone, that she was coming. "Were you called out because of me?"
T'Challa	T'Challa is quite adept at hiding true feelings, keeping things close to the vest. A good King must be able to project that which he wants others to see, even if the truth is something different. "By all means, you will find a number of choices, I am sure. Some.." He pauses, casting a glance behind the woman, "..can even be altered for specific needs." "There are many things that have demanded my attention, but I would have been happy to give you a tour of the market myself and help explain the meanings behind some of what you see." The King gestures toward some of those fabrics, and the jewelry. He admits, "I was notified, so I came to see you before anyone caused a scene. You understand, some people will see this side of you and..well." Bast. The Black Panther. It is a natural response.
Tara Tsabedze	For a moment Tara turns her head to look around herself, at the people and they way they are looking at her. She could see the difference in the expressions on their face, not at all the same as what she normally dealt with. Bast was up to something, she realized it in that moment, even as she looks back toward T'Challa. Often times she had no idea what the Goddess was intending, sometimes she had no idea at all as the Goddess took over, but this had been a thought that passed her, a desire for something closer to home. The thought of that being from Wakanda had not been her own, it was a suggestion that passed from Bast and she took without pause. "I apologize for now contacting you," she says first as she looks back to the king. "I realize now that it was not entirely my decision." She seriously hoped he got what she meant by that, but even if he didn't, that was all he was getting for now. "If you would prefer to sho me the market, I am not against the idea," she then says, changing subjects. "I did not mean to cause a problem."
T'Challa	T'Challa waves a hand. "It is no problem. There is no harm done. I have a feeling your arrival will be on multiple tongues at supper later," he remarks, hands clasped behind as he walks casually alongside her. "And..I believe I understand, yes." He stops before a woman selling fine fabrics that can be made into a variety of garments, letting her tell Tara of their quality and the dyes and a few suggestions for her. Once this is finished, he leads Tara toward one side of the marketplace, giving her a closer look. "Who is more in control at this moment?" he wonders, lowering his voice.
Tara Tsabedze	As they walk, Tara seems to take comfort from the fact she's caused no troubles. The idea of reminding Wakandan's that Bast is real and watching them runs through her mind and brings another wave of delight to the Goddess within. As they reach the fabric stall her eyes light up, so many beautiful choices, so many tribal patterns, it was beyond what she thought possible for one place. She listens to the woman explaining the fabrics, but her eyes shift to T'Challa as his voice lowers. Her left ear turns slightly, able to hear him quite easily, but it is the wild swishing of her tail behind her that it the most noticeable thing. "Which would you prefer," she whispers back, slowly moving her eyes up his body to his face. "Both are here this time, two in one, neither more than the other. I wanted to shop, She wanted to observe your people."
T'Challa	"I have yet to figure that out," T'Challa admits, his response to the question of his preference. "If that is so, have both 'sides' found what they were hoping to?" He exchanges a few coins for a sugary pastry filled with cinnamon and apple, biting into it slowly so the flavors can spread. It is almost like a miniature apple pie. The King notes the movement of that tail, attention going that way for a spell. "You know, where the King goes, the Black Panther is never far away."
Tara Tsabedze	Running her finger tips carefully over the fabrics, making certain her claws don't damage it as she goes, but Tara's eyes for a moment remain fixed on T'Challa. Tara was there for shopping, but Bast has other plans now. A smile slowly creeps across her face before she cants her head. "You cannot decide if you prefer Tara or I," she says quietly, though there is a slight change to her voice. The tone is more melodic, a higher pitch, beautiful really. "I should be deeply wounded by your words T'Challa, but instead I will choose to be amused." There is something different in her body language as well. Before she stood tall, yet seemed to be attempting to take up as little space as possible, to not be in the way or avoid being noticed when neither were possible. Now, she stood straight and tall, tail flicking merrily behind her, chest out, proud, elegant, not caring who viewed her. "Where the King goes, I always follow," she then says, licking her lips. "I would like the entire bolt of this fabric, I am going to make myself something silky, slinky, and beautiful."
T'Challa	T'Challa's head tilts slightly in Tara/Bast's direction as she stands up more regally, a feline posture befitting that of a Goddess. "It is difficult to see the difference, the separation," he claims. He can go with the costume or without, but does it really change who he is, anything about him? It is a visual difference, a symbolic one, and one that does bring extra benefits with it in the suit's tech along with the image it presents, which is one of power, one of strength, one with Bast's very blessing. A chuckle. "The entire bolt? That is quite a few yards. Am I going to have to cover this as a favor to you?" Surely the vendor needs /that/ amount of money for it, and the King's hands come to rest at his hips. The motion of the tail continues, something that threatens to distract. "I am certain you would look such in it."
Tara Tsabedze	At times it was difficult for Tara to figure out where she started and ended. How much of her was Bast, and how much was she herself? In this moment, she was as much present and aware as anyone else, the difference was she had no control over her body, her words or her actions. Bast reaches to smooth her hand over the fabric once again, enjoying the sensation of the soft material. "You do not have to pay for my whims," she comments idly with laughter in her voice. She then notes his eyes and how the movement of her tail keeps distracting him, so she steps in much closer to him, perhaps too close for the comfort of his guards, and wraps her tail around his leg so it is less distracting. "Unless you want to.... or perhaps," she almost purrs. "You just want to ensure you get to see me in the dress I intend to craft?"
T'Challa	T'Challa glances down after squinting at the embodiment of the Goddess, then a raised brow is the result of her closing in and slipping that tail about the leg. There is a 'hmph,' as if he is trying not to fall for any games or teasing. "It would seem a waste of good fabric if no one were to see the end result," he answers in a dry tone, barely holding back the sense of amusement that's present. "Perhaps you will return with me to the Palace so we can speak of recent developments in the world and closer to home," he offers, even extending a hand.
Tara Tsabedze	The very tip of her tail taps against his leg for a moment as Bast watches his eyes. His stoic nature holds firmly in place, which brings a playful smile to her lips. So many things she could say, could do, right there in front of everyone, but instead she opts to give the king a small break. It wouldn't do to have him embarrassed or to make him uncomfortable in front of his subjects, that never ends well. "I promise you will see the end results," she purrs at him, eyes sparkling. Unwrapping her tail from his leg, she steps back and places her hand in his offered one, that is how it was done after all. "There are many things about this world we can speak about, but more important are those close to home. I can always continue my shopping another time," she then adds, expecting him to lead the way.
T'Challa	"Indeed." T'Challa will have the bolt of fabric set aside one way or another, and it will end up with her for whatever her imagination may work up. It is then time to depart, the walk back to the Palace not very far at all, and everyone left behind with a story to tell later on. Quite an interesting one, at that. The Dora Milaje also gather up a few more food and drink items, having them brought along as well while the two discuss recent events. All reactions to the tail? Kept inside.